


Slip Beyond Friendship into Comfort

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pure fluff and comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will, unable to sleep for days, is so exhausted that Hannibal insists he spend the evening in his home, so he can get some rest. Too tired to fight, Will isn't sure he would want to- something about Hannibal has always been so soothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip Beyond Friendship into Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a gif I saw on tumblr from s01e13 which Hannibal driving with a sleeping Will through the rain. Doesn't take place then since we all know that did not lead to good things, but I stole the idea.
> 
> I am just really needing fluff between them.

Rivets of water trails down the car, the windows, disrupted only as the windshield was wiped clean by the hypnotic, rhythmic movement of the windshield wipers. Will was slumped in the passenger seat, eyelids heavy, beyond a state of drowsiness, his hair wet and clinging to his forehead. The seat felt oddly soft, comforting- the car itself was warm, cutting out the chill of the rain water as it slowly dried. He stifled a yawn, wanted to turn and look at Hannibal in the dark, but didn’t feel he had the energy. He hadn’t been able to sleep in days- a few broken hours, just enough so he didn’t pass out at a crime scene, or onto Jack’s desk.

He hadn’t been able to keep that composure in Hannibal’s office, settled into his usual seat, attempting to talk through the details of the case- as he did so often with the man, as he reached for the sweet fibers of his mind and begged them to wrap around his throat, sink under skin and into his skull and fill him with the details he was missing. He’d slumped and stifled a yawn, his eyes going blurry, and Hannibal had crossed the room without him knowing, knelt down by the chair and placed a hand over his. The touch had willed him back from his drowsy stupor.

_Have you not been sleeping, Will?_ No, of course he hadn’t. Every time he closed his eyes he saw bodies strung up like Christmas, arranged on antlers like stockings- he saw blood and innards and felt himself being sucked inside corpses opened up like books. No, no he hadn’t been sleeping.

_Your body has been pushed beyond it’s limit. You need rest._ Will had wanted to snap at Hannibal that he couldn’t sleep, he simply _couldn’t_ , not with what lay behind his eyes. He didn’t feel safe. But Hannibal’s hand on his own had silenced him, and he’d dipped forward a bit- not meaning to, but his fatigued body swayed- and Hannibal had reached his other hand up, brushed the curls from his forehead.

_You will stay with me tonight, sleep in an environment where you are not alone._ Will shook his head, but didn’t pull away from the touch- it was warm, soothing, and he closed his eyes, felt Hannibal’s hand drift down, over his aching eyelids, and he pressed into that- sweet, warm darkness and softness and the smell of his cologne on his wrist. _I will chase the bad dreams away, Will._

And Will couldn’t refuse. Not when Hannibal was helping him, to the car, trying to hold an umbrella over them both and guide Will, who felt like he was sleeping on his feet. And now he had the rain lulling him, the sweet motion of the car as they drove through the wet, night time Baltimore streets. He couldn’t even find it in him to worry about being in Hannibal’s home- it wouldn’t be the first time, but never like this, never with the intention of spending the night. All he could cling to as he began to doze was the feeling of Hannibal’s hand against his aching eyelids.

Hannibal flicked his eyes to Will as he drove, watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was sleeping, very tentatively, but it was better than nothing. He regretted already that he would have to wake the man to get him inside, but knew Will would rest much better laid out on a bed instead of curled up in his car.

He was gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove, feeling the slightest elevation in his heart rate. Will, willing, in his home. It was enough to make him question if _he_ was dreaming. He wanted to reach out and touch him, brush his fingers along the worn fabric of his jacket, his damp curls- but he resisted. He resisted because he didn’t think he could stop, once he started.

Once the car was parked and the engine killed, he watched Will, watched him breathe for a moment, before reaching out, running his hand down along his upper arm. Will stirred, raising his head, eyes blurry, mouth open slightly.

“Let me help you,” Hannibal said, and got out into the rain. He forwent the umbrella, deciding it didn’t matter as they were home now, and walked around the car, opening Will’s door and clutching at his hands, helping him to stand. The rain seemed to wake him up, and he stood on his own feet, but kept one hand clutched in Hannibal’s as they made their way for the door. Once inside, Hannibal locked the door and gripped Will’s jacket, guiding it down his shoulders and arms and hanging it up before he pulled his own off. Beneath, Will’s shirt was damp, actually wet around his collar where his jacket hadn’t covered him.

Hannibal didn’t speak, just bumped a foot against Will’s, and the younger man was toeing his wet shoes off, then following Hannibal into the house. They went slowly up the stairs- Hannibal moving his hand from Will’s to the man’s arm, and through the halls. Will didn’t pay attention as a door was opened and he was guided inside the dark room, lit only by the hallway. Hannibal never clicked the light on. Hannibal placed a hand on the small of Will’s back, guiding him towards the large bed.

“I’m soaked,” Will mumbled, “I’ll get everything wet.” He turned to Hannibal, leaned into him, and Hannibal stiffened as Will nestled up into the crook of his neck, inhaling, then sighing. “You smell good,” he whispered, pushing closer, and Hannibal pressed his hand tighter into the small of his back, mind blanking for a moment as to what he should do. He was sure Will was so far beyond delirious with exhaustion that he had no idea what he was doing.

“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” Hannibal offered, tugging on the bottom of Will’s shirt until it came untucked in the back, slipping his hand beneath it to the soft skin of his back. Will made a little pleased sound, and Hannibal flexed his fingers once, before pulling away. He left Will to handle his clothing himself, debating what he should get the man to wear. His first thought had been pajamas- obvious, since he intended for Will to sleep- but he thought to how Will was most comfortable- mostly undressed, as he had been blessed to see it a few times- and decided against the idea.

_You smell good_. Will’s voice was in his head, sleepy and affectionate- more so than he ever had been, and Hannibal wondered if he was like this upon first waking in the morning. He stepped into his closet, grabbing his knitted red sweater, and deciding it would do. When he stepped back out, Will was stepping out of his jeans, leaving him in only his underwear. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself, leaving the clothing pooled on the floor. Hannibal gave himself a moment to trace his eyes along Will’s side, before stepping closer, holding out the sweater.

“I think you’d be more comfortable in this,” he said, “Than anything else I have.” Will took it, holding it gingerly in his hands for a moment, before he slipped it over his head. Hannibal moved past him, pulling back the blanket, and Will crawled into the bed, laying on his side and nestling into the pillow happily as Hannibal pulled the blanket up. He brushed along Will’s shoulder, feeling the heat of his body from under the sweater, and dared to reach up, stroke his curls. Will made a little sound, pleased, then,

“Stay,” he was whispering. “It’s afraid of you.”

Hannibal furrowed his brow, unsure what Will was talking about. He didn’t see the dark room opening up as Will did, didn’t see the stag’s head with those massive antlers staring at him. But Hannibal nodded, settled on the edge of the bed, stroking Will’s curls until the man’s breathing slowed, and he went lax into the bed.

He sat there past that, stroking him in sleep, before he finally stood up, gathering Will’s clothing from the floor and slipping from the bedroom, so he could have it washed and dried for Will come morning. He checked his watch, and knew despite the darkness brought on by the storm, it was not rudely late, and fished his phone out, placing a call to Alana. She seemed shocked to hear from him at this hour.

“I was hoping you could check in on Will’s dogs,” he said, working the buttons of his vest open as he made sure the door was locked and clicked the light off. “I’m afraid he was in no shape to make the trip home this evening. Yes, he is quite fine. Exhausted, in all honesty. He admitted he has not been sleeping. No, it is quite alright Alana, I will take care of him. I just know when he wakes in the morning he will be worried about the dogs.” Hannibal smiled as he began making his way up the stairs again. “Yes, I will call you if there is a need. Thank you.” He hung up, kept his phone in hand until he had shut off the hall light and was slipping back into his bedroom, leaving it on a table by the door and closing he and Will off into darkness.

Will smelled something sweet. Not over bearing, but faintly so, musky and heavy and very warm. He pushed his face into it, seeking it out, realized it was all around him, and sighed happily, feel encased. He opened his eyes, found a dim darkness, and realized his face was pressed into a pillow. He lifted his head slowly, looking around the room. There was a crack in the curtains, allowing a bit of light to come through, otherwise the room sat in a sleepy half light. Will blinked, stretched, felt muscles sliding along bone and let out a little sound, before melting back into the bed again.

It was only after he had closed his eyes that he realized he had no idea where he was, and then he was opening them again, looking around. He sat up, looked down at himself and wondered _whose sweater he was wearing_ , but ran his fingers along the soft fabric, dared to rub it along his cheek. It had the same sweet smell as his pillow. He turned, slowly, to look behind him, and stared, for a moment forgetting to breathe.

Not far from the bed, pressed into the corner of the room was a large plush chair. And settled in it was Hannibal- lacking his typical attire and in his pajamas, slouched slightly to one side, sleeping. Will stared, shifted onto his hands and knees, and crawled towards the other side of the bed, slowly, pulling free of the blankets. He felt like he needed to take advantage of the moment, to get a closer look at Hannibal. The only other time he’d ever seen the man sleep was in Abigail’s hospital room- and this seemed different. This seemed open, unguarded.

Will stopped, tilting his head, his curls wild, and just watched the way his chest rose and fell. He pursed his lips, shifted again, and the bed made a sound, little groan, and then Hannibal’s eyes were opening. They locked onto Will, and the younger man held the stare for a moment, before flicking his eyes down to Hannibal’s mouth, which was turning up into a small smile.

“Good morning,” he offered, sitting up, rotating his neck.

“Morning,” Will offered, somewhat transfixed, almost forgetting his confusion. “What uh...what am I doing here?”

“You were too exhausted to drive home last night,” Hannibal offered, “After your session. You admitted you had not been sleeping, and I thought it best to have you rest in a controlled environment. One where you did not need to be alone.”

Will nodded. “Well...thank you. You didn’t need to do that. Did you sleep in that chair?”

“Yes.” Hannibal leaned forward, still smiling at Will. “I did not think it appropriate to share the bed with you- nor did I think it would have left you feeling very comfortable.” Will nodded, wasn’t entirely sure if he would feel uncomfortable- well, to the degree that Hannibal assumed. He could just remember Hannibal’s fingertips over his aching eyelids.

Then, in a moment of realization, Well asked,”Is this _your_ bed?”

“I thought it would be more comfortable than the guest room.” He reached up, pushing his bangs back slowly, and Will wanted to touch that fine hair with his fingers. “You seem to find something...soothing about me.”

Will tensed at that, cheeks tinging pink. “What makes you think that?” It came out sharper, faster than he wanted it to- and Will was angry at himself for being rude. Hannibal had troubled himself quite a deal, he was sure, to try and get Will comfortable.

“You,” Hannibal started, then pursed his lips, as if he was debating on actually telling Will. “Last night, you pressed up against me, right here,” he reached up, touching the crook of his neck, “And told me I smelled good. You seemed to relax then. I just assumed there was something about my scent you enjoyed, and that my own room would thus be more of a comfort.”

Will sucked on his lower lip. Hannibal didn’t seem mad about that at all. If anything, just intrigued. Will thought to apologize, but then decided against it, instead he scooted back on the bed, sitting back down. “Why don’t you lay down,” Will said, “You can’t be comfortable having slept in a chair.”

Hannibal stood up, and Will watched him stretch, felt his stomach knotting in on itself at the sight. He took a deep breath and willed himself to stay calm. “I will be quite fine,” Hannibal said, “I’m sure you’d prefer to keep your space. I can go start breakfast-“

“Please lay down.” Will wouldn’t look at him when he said it, but his voice, tinged with a pleading tone, had Hannibal pulling the blanket back and slipping onto the bed, on his back, sighing at the comfort of being able to stretch out. Will laid down on his side, looking at Hannibal, reached out and very carefully ran his fingers along his arm.

“So is that why I’m wearing your sweater too?” He asked. “For comfort?” A nod. “So comfort doesn’t involve pants?”

“I know how you usually sleep,” Hannibal offered, “I thought you would want to mirror that as much as possible. If you are uncomfortable I can go get your clothing. I washed it last night, it should be dry now.” Will shook his head, reaching up and burrowing his face into his own wrist, the soft sweater, Hannibal’s scent.

“No. I’m comfortable.” He sighed, reached back out again to trail his fingers along Hannibal’s arm. “I didn’t dream last night.”

“Then this was a success.” Hannibal turned then, smiled at Will- warm, all the way up to his burgundy eyes- and Will was sliding closer, shocked that Hannibal lifted his arm and let him press against his side, face resting on his chest. Beneath his ear he could hear the gentle, steady rhythm of Hannibal’s heart.

“Why did you stay in here with me?”

“You said, before falling asleep, ‘it’s afraid of you’ and asked me to stay. Again, I thought you found something of me comforting, and I was more than willing to keep a vigil for you.” His arm wrapped around Will, squeezed, and the younger man wasn’t exactly sure what was going on in that moment between them. “I apologize that I dozed off during it. I am perhaps not the best guard.”

Will laughed, sliding up Hannibal’s body and pressing into the crook of his neck, inhaling. Without thinking his mouth found skin, moved over his pulse point, felt his heart beneath his tongue. Hannibal’s arm tightened, held him so he could squirm away, and Will tipped his forehead to Hannibal’s jaw, exhaling.

“Sorry,” he said, “That was inappropriate.”

“Not so,” Hannibal corrected, “Simply...unorthodox.” Will smiled, reaching a hand out to rest on Hannibal’s belly, fingers playing between the buttons of his shirt to find skin.

“This whole thing is pretty _unorthodox_ , doctor.”

“I am rather fond of the unorthodox.” He turned, caught Will’s eyes, gave him another smile. “I’m rather fond of you, Will.”

He felt his breath hitch, and Will wasn’t sure if it was that smile, or those eyes, or the fact that Hannibal was warm against him and everything smelled like _home_ and he, for once, felt safe. Maybe it was all of that, but Will was leaning in, gently sliding his lips along Hannibal’s. Hannibal’s hand flattened on his lower back as he did so, his mouth moving slowly into the lazy kiss, tilting his head slightly to make it easier on Will. The younger man clutched at his pajamas, held on his he opened his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing to Hannibal’s but not invading his mouth as they tentatively continued, until Will was dizzy and breathless, pulling back with his cheeks flushed.

He opened his mouth to apologize, then stopped himself. Hannibal was still smiling at him- and he couldn’t bring himself to think it was faked. He just smiled back instead and said, “My dogs?”

“I called Alana last night. She will be checking on them this morning.” Will nodded, settled back down against Hannibal’s chest, content with the warm feeling in his chest. He yawned again, still somewhat drowsy- mostly now from Hannibal’s warmth, the close proximity of his body, and the lingering taste on his lips. “You can go back to sleep,” Hannibal offered, “I will stay in here if you want.”

“I’ll only sleep if you Will,” he whispered, letting one of his legs slip over Hannibal’s. “And only if you stay _right here_.” Hannibal looked down at him.

“I believe perhaps this is a bit beyond unorthodox,” Hannibal said, kissing Will’s curls, and the younger man smiled, sighing happily.

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispered, could feel sleep clawing at the corners of his vision. “I feel safe here...I don’t really care what that means.”

Hannibal reached his other arm up, over his body, embracing Will, and the younger man gave a little pleased sound. He could worry about what this was later- they both could. For now, Will was more than happy to slip back into sleep, entangled with the older man. And Hannibal was more than willing to hold Will into the late hours of the morning, deciding this had gone beyond unorthodoxy, beyond perhaps friendship. Silently, he was thankful.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure it'd be pretty interesting to see what happens when they wake up again.
> 
> Also, there was no way I wasn't bringing the red sweater into this <3


End file.
